Glitter, Caps and Grunkles
by AnimationNut
Summary: Dipper and Mabel aren't always the easiest kids to look after. Stan and Ford aren't always the most responsible of guardians. But the love they have for one another is deep. The bonds they hold only grow with each passing summer. A collection of one-shots, featuring family fluff and Grunkles bonding with their niblings over the years.
1. Gotcha!

**I do not own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

 **A collection of one-shots, focussing on the bonds between the Grunkles and their niece and nephew. Might be heavy on Ford and Mabel fluff, because they are my weakness. If you have a prompt, feel free to share, and I'll see what I can do.**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Mabel scares Ford, and tries to escape retaliation.

* * *

 **Gotcha!**

A rubber clown mask strapped to the top of her head by a thin piece of string, Mabel slowly approached the living room. She peeked around the doorframe, spotting Ford reclining in the armchair, watching a documentary on television. Grinning wickedly, she slid the mask to cover her face, so that only her eyes were visible.

Ford had spent years keeping on guard against hostile threats in the multiverse, so it wasn't easy to sneak up on him. There was also his fighting instincts to keep in mind, as Stan had caught a fist to the face a few times when trying to scare his brother. But Mabel was well equipped for her little mission. She would be sure to keep her distance and she knew where every squeaky floorboard was located.

With light steps, she moved across the floor, keeping her eyes on the back of Ford's head. Her great-uncle seemed engrossed in the documentary and after a brief glance at the screen she realized he was watching a special on the Mayans.

Giving a fond roll of her eyes, she tiptoed to stand behind the armchair, crouching slightly to keep out of view. She did a mental countdown before suddenly rearing up, clutching Ford's arm and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Ford shouted out, his arm instinctively flying at his attacker. Mabel, who had already jumped about a foot away after releasing her scream, was safely out of striking range. She took a millisecond to appreciate the labour of her work, from Ford's wild, panicked eyes to the hand clutching at his heart.

The terror immediately fled when Ford took in the long brunette hair attached to the old Halloween mask and he breathed, "You little devil!"

"Gotcha!" cried Mabel triumphantly, lifting the clown mask to rest once more on top of her head.

His heart still pounding madly in his chest, Ford's eyes narrowed at his niece. "That was not a wise decision."

Not missing the menacing hint to his tone, Mabel let out a shriek and spun on her heel, sprinting out of the living room. She could hear Ford shout after her and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, spotting the shifting of his shadow as he moved from the armchair.

"Gotta hide gotta hide gotta hide," she chanted, taking the attic steps two at a time.

When she burst into her bedroom, her eyes darted about for a hiding place. Her heartbeat quickened at the sound of Ford's footsteps falling on the stairs and she hastily shut the attic door before moving quickly but silently to the closet. She wiggled her way inside, easing it shut behind her. She then crawled into her dirty laundry hamper, covering herself with sweaters, and held her breath in anticipation.

There was a creak as the attic door opened. The footsteps were slow as Ford took his time entering the room, no doubt scanning with a critical eye for the spot where she would most likely be hiding. After a few beats the steps came closer to the closet. Mabel clasped both hands over her mouth when the door swung open.

A pair of hands suddenly seized her and Mabel let out a yelp as she was pulled from her cozy spot. Ford held her aloft by the waist, eyes gleaming with triumph. "Gotcha."

"Wait! Wait!" squeaked Mabel. "How did you find me?"

"The bedroom closet is usually the prime place for hiding," replied Ford, trying to hold back a smile at the way Mabel wiggled in an attempt to escape. "Think its funny to scare me, do you?"

"You bet," said Mabel cheekily.

"Let's see how funny you find it after this."

Mabel opened her mouth to retort, but any words she planned to say were overtaken by high-pitched laughter as Ford tickled her sides. "Grunkle Fooooord!" she shrieked, batting at his hands. "Stooooop!"

But the onslaught did not cease and Ford mercilessly dug his fingers into his niece's torso, eliciting helpless laughter from her. "Still think its funny?" asked Ford, unable to keep holding his grin back.

"Okay! Okay! I surrender," Mabel gasped.

Ford ceased his attack and Mabel slumped forwards, wrapping her arms around Ford's neck and resting her forehead against his shoulder. As she caught her breath, Ford used one arm to hold her close and the other to pluck the mask from her head.

"Where on earth did you get this?"

"Found it in Grunkle Stan's room," she said, a few stray giggles leaving her lips.

"And your first thought was to frighten the dickens out of me?"

Mabel lifted her chin so she could peer innocently at him. "I'm just keeping you on your toes."

"I've had enough of that in my life, thank you," chided Ford, lightly tapping the mask against her nose. "I very nearly hurt you before I regained my senses. You should be more careful."

"I made sure you wouldn't accidentally punch me," assured Mabel. "I planned it out."

Shaking his head, Ford said, "Between you and Stan, I'm losing a few years off my life." He tossed the mask onto Mabel's bed. "I believe I was watching a documentary before a little gremlin interrupted. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure, but I'll doing more snuggling than watching."

A soft smile crossing his features, Ford reached up to brush some of her loose strands of hair back into place. "That's fine with me."

Setting Mabel down, the pair left the attic. Tucking her hands behind her back, Mabel sent Ford a grin as she said, "And yes, I still thought it was funny. Your face was priceless!"


	2. Misunderstanding

**I do not own Gravity Falls.**

* * *

 **Summary:** Mabel accidentally bursts in on Ford while he's handling a dangerous creature. His outburst results in Mabel thinking she's banished from the lab and she runs out, upset, and a heart-to-heart chat is required to set things straight.

* * *

 **Misunderstanding**

With precise movement Mabel cut the ham sandwich in front of her into the shape of a heart. Humming cheerfully, she grabbed some potato chips from the open bag and arranged them around the sandwich and finished up the meal with a few carrot sticks. Setting her hands on her hips, she surveyed the three plates lined up on the counter, all holding identical meals.

"Lunch is complete!"

She set the plates on the kitchen table and quickly cleaned up her mess, sticking the mustard, cheese, butter and remaining sliced ham back into the fridge and fastening the chip bag shut with an elastic band. She then went up the attic stairs and poked her head into her bedroom, where she found Dipper in the same spot he'd been in a half-hour earlier.

He was sitting on the hardwood floor, surrounded by dozens of papers. His brow was scrunched up, a pencil pressed against his cheek as he studied his Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons notes. "I made you lunch, Dipper," spoke Mabel.

"Thanks," said Dipper distractedly. "But I'll eat it later. I'm in the middle of the crucial part of my campaign and I can't stop now."

"Want me to bring it to you?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

Mabel went to grab her brother's food, returning a minute later with the plate and a glass of water. Dipper mumbled out another thank you as she set his lunch on his nightstand table, eyes still glued to his game preparation.

"I don't get it," she muttered to herself as she once more headed downstairs. "How can a game involving so much work be fun?"

She paused in the entryway to the kitchen, eyeing the two sandwiches still remaining on the table. Stan was out for the afternoon and Ford was down in his lab. Considering he hadn't emerged yet, Mabel figured he had once again forgotten it was mealtime. She went to the vending machine that acted as the entrance to the underground space and typed in the code.

"Grunkle Ford!" she called, her voice echoing down the steps. She waited a beat but didn't receive an answer, though she could hear some odd grunts and hissing noises. Eyebrow raising in curiosity, Mabel ventured into the depths, wondering what her great-uncle was doing this time.

She stepped into the lab, spotting Ford moving slowly around his metal table, long rubber gloves covering his forearms. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but froze when her gaze next landed on the orange frog slithering along the floor to her right.

Three purple eyes moved to stare unblinkingly at her, a long, green forked tongue snapping out of its mouth. Ford realized his niece was there the same moment the frog swelled like a balloon. _"Mabel! Move!"_

Ford catapulted over the table and shoved Mabel aside just as a giant glob of green slime flew from the frog's mouth. Mabel slammed to the floor, her cheek ricocheting off of the hard surface. Dazed for a moment, she blinked up at Ford, who just managed to avoid the attack. The slime hit the wall and Mabel gaped as the material started to melt away, the slime bubbling and emitting a high-pitched hissing sound.

The frog hopped onto the table and shifted from side to side, seeming to prepare for another attack. Ford hauled Mabel to her feet and hustled her towards the door. Mabel was about to speak, but Ford cut her off with a harsh, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I just came to see you!"

"I gave you clear instructions not to enter my lab today!" snapped Ford, his eyes not leaving the agitated creature. "Are you aware you nearly got yourself killed?"

"I didn't mean to," insisted Mabel, her hand pressed over the throbbing spot on her cheek. "I just wanted—"

"You don't listen," said Ford, speaking over her and his tone raising with growing fury. "You can't just barge in here whenever you feel like it!" The frog began to swell again and Ford shouted at Mabel, "Get out and stay out!"

The cold, angry dismissal piercing her heart like a knife, the twelve-year-old fled back upstairs, the tears gathering in her eyes making it difficult to see the steps. She stumbled out of the lab and hastily shut the vending machine behind her.

A sob escaped her and the tears started to stream down her cheeks. Ford's words replaying in her mind on a loop, Mabel hurried through the house and out the front door. Her small body wracked with shakes as she cried harder, and through her blurred vision she managed to catch sight of the sky, which was a dark grey.

Her initial plan of escaping into the forest to be alone botched by poor weather conditions, Mabel resorted to crawling into the space between the porch's couch and the exterior wall. She feebly batted away cobwebs as she wedged herself into the narrow spot, jerking her sweater over her head. Curling her arms tightly around her legs, she tried to calm herself down, but it was hard when Ford's livid face was permanently engrained in her mind.

She had forgotten Ford's order, given to her and Dipper early that afternoon. He did indeed instruct them to stay out of his lab while he worked. Mabel cringed at her own stupidity, at her carelessness. She always got carried away by her impulses, hardly stopping to think about what she doing.

She wished she could be more like Dipper. Ford hardly ever got mad at Dipper, and he certainly never would ban him from his lab. Mabel supposed she couldn't blame him. He and Dipper were much more alike, she knew that, but she liked to think she and Ford were close, in their own unique way.

But now she wasn't so sure.

…

After the Three-Eyed Poison Tongued Frog was safely contained, Ford peeled off his gloves, letting out an exhausted sigh. His initial anger at seeing Mabel intrude upon a dangerous situation had cooled, and he grimaced as the words he shouted at her swirled in his mind.

"Great job, Stanford," he muttered.

He climbed the stairs and exited the lab, intent on finding Mabel and having a talk with her. He took a brief glance into the Mystery Shack's gift shop before heading into the main house. He paused at the sight of two sandwiches arranged neatly on the table and he felt deep regret wrench at his gut.

"Mabel?" he called.

He furrowed his brow when there was no answer and continued searching. His concern grew when every room he checked was empty and blossomed into panic when he found Dipper the sole occupant of the attic.

"Where's your sister?"

Dipper jumped in surprise, so engrossed in his planning that he hadn't heard his great-uncle come in. "I don't know," he replied. "She brought me lunch a bit ago and I haven't seen her since." Not missing the worry on Ford's face, Dipper asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

"Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it," said Ford curtly, mind already whirling with possible ideas on where she could have gone. _Maybe she went to find Stanley in town?_ "Stay here. I'll be back."

Ford hurried down the attic stairs, his heart jumping into his throat when a sudden, torrential downpour slammed against the Mystery Shack in mere seconds. He raced through the living room and burst through the front door, staring frantically at the sheets of rain that pummelled the earth, creating an eerie, misty scenery.

 _She was out of sight for under ten minutes, she couldn't have gotten far!_

Terrified by the mental image of his tiny niece stumbling through the rain, soaked and upset, he cried, _"Mabel! Where are you?"_

Tucked behind the couch, Mabel tugged down the collar of her sweater at Ford's shout. The intense concern layering his voice caused her to pipe up, "I'm here!"

She wiggled her way out of the space, managing to poke her head over the edge of the couch. Ford felt relief crash down over him and he quickly swept Mabel into his arms. "Thank heavens!"

Hope ignited in her chest at Ford's embrace and Mabel hugged him tightly. "What's wrong?"

"I thought perhaps I had caused you to run off in this terrible mess," said Ford, shifting his eyes guiltily. He set Mabel down and for the first time noticed the bruise on her cheek. Realizing she must have received the injury when he pushed her, he felt sick to his stomach. "I hurt you."

At the devastation on his features Mabel quickly said, "No, it's okay! It only hurts a tiny bit."

Managing a bitter smile, Ford lightly ran his fingers over the bruise. "Perhaps not as much as my words."

Mabel shrunk slightly at that, eyes moving to stare at the floorboards of the porch. "I guess. I'm sorry I went into your lab when you told me not to."

"I'm sorry I reacted the way I did." Ford let out a deep sigh, sinking into the couch cushions and taking Mabel's small hands within his calloused grip. "I didn't intend to come across so harsh. It's just that you really do need to be more careful. If that creature had hit you with its poison, you would have been severely hurt."

"I forgot," said Mabel quietly. "But that's not really an excuse. I won't go into your lab ever again. Promise."

Using three fingers to tilt her chin slightly so they were making eye contact, Ford said seriously, "On the contrary, I want you in my lab, Mabel. But when you have my express permission to do so."

"So…I'm not banned?" asked Mabel hopefully.

Brow furrowing, it took Ford a minute to understand why she would think such a thing. "No, of course not. When I said 'get out and stay out', I merely meant it for the current situation. Not on an indefinite basis." Flinching slightly at repeating those earlier, cold words, Ford squeezed Mabel's hands. "I shouldn't have said that to begin with."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. I upset you." Ford reached up to brush at the wet tear tracks on Mabel's cheeks, shame and regret boiling within him. "I seem to be very good at upsetting those I love."

"I upset Dipper all the time, so don't worry about it, really." Hesitating for a brief moment, Mabel dredged up the courage to ask the question that had been lingering on her mind. "Um…Grunkle Ford, do you like me?"

"Of course I like you," answered Ford immediately, lips sharpening into a worried frown. "Did my outburst make you think otherwise?"

"You don't really get mad at Dipper," said Mabel, self-consciously shifting her feet.

"Dipper doesn't really have a tendency to march into my lab whenever he feels like it," said Ford gently. He paused for a moment before adding, slightly shame-faced, "Though I suppose I tend to be stricter with you. You're so lively and energetic. I worry that you'll let your impulses carry you until you hurt yourself. Stan was—and still is—the same way. But Dipper can be reckless, as I know I can be. I love you and your brother equally, Mabel. I didn't do a good job making that clear before Weirdmageddeon, but I'll do all I can to make up for it."

"You don't have to," said Mabel, a wide smile stretching across her lips. "I forgive you, and I love you too."

She removed her hands from Ford's grasp to hug him, burrowing her head against his shoulder as happiness burst in her chest. Ford returned the embrace, stroking her hair as affection bubbled warmly through his body. Though Mabel seemed to think he didn't need to make up for his rather neglectful treatment pre-Weirdmageddeon, Ford disagreed. And he would do all he could to make it right before summer ended.

"I see you made some lunch," he spoke.

"Uh-huh! Do you want to eat with me?"

"I'd love to. Though I noticed you didn't have nearly enough carrot sticks on your plate. We'll have to fix that."

"Aw, Grunkle Ford!"


End file.
